Surprise Visit

She held her heavy belly with one hand as she buzzed the flat intercom. Impatient, she buzzed again, hoping this time to get a response. It would be just like him to miss her. Perhaps intentional, perhaps not, though all the same it felt insulting.

On a third attempt at the buzzer, she did finally get a response, though not from who she expected.

"Sorry, I was in the shower." Crackled an only somewhat familiar voice.

Instinctually, she thanked the voice over the obnoxious buzzing of the releasing of the electronic lock. Out from the heat of the outside, she entered the humidity of the lift that took her up to the 9th floor. Last time she was here the thing was out of order and so had to climb the excruciating number of stairs just to say hello to her all too indignant son. She looked down at the swollen features that her light blue summer dress lay over, and was thankful that they had managed to fix it since then.

As the lift gradually drew closer to the 9th floor, he hastily dressed himself in his room. He had no idea she was coming and did wish his flatmate would have told him beforehand. No one likes surprise visits, least of all a flatmate's mother. His hair was still damp, and he was just squeezing a noticeably large calf into a pair of deceptively skinny trousers when he heard the bell ring. Stumbling, he left his room and moved down the narrow hallway to the front door.

Looking through the peephole, he spied the familiar face of his flatmate's mother. She looked good, if a little sweaty, and the roundness of the peephole exaggerated the increasing roundness of her figure in a way he found somewhat pleasing. He opened the door, smiling and greeting her as he did. She seemed somewhat less pleased to see him, and immediately enquired about the whereabouts of her son.

"Well, he went out this morning, about three hours ago maybe. Not sure where he went, but he didn't say you were coming. Surprise visit?" He said in response.

She scrunched her freckled face. No, it was not a surprise visit. She let him know weeks in advance. The brat just didn't want to see her, or most likely made himself scarce as a way to get at her.

'Prick.' She thought. 'Bring that boy into the world and this is the thanks I get, all because I'm doing it again.' She continued, before realising the young man at the door was still awaiting an answer.

"Not quite a surprise visit darling, though you wouldn't happen to know when he'd be back now would you?" She said.

"Couldn't say. He left a note on the fridge that just mentioned 'back later', so that could mean anything. You're welcome to wait here until he shows up." He replied, polite smile still on his face.

She smiled back at the offer. Now this was a nice young man. She wondered why in the past year the two had been living together, his attitude hadn't rubbed off on her own son. The two went inside.

They walked through the narrow hallway and took a right, away from the rooms and toward the kitchen/living room. She sat herself down on a sofa by the window, looking out over the city. She sighed as she did so, her body still never fully used to the extra weight she was carrying. Behind her at the kitchen counter, he called out, asking if she would like a coffee.

"Only tea for me love, already had a coffee today. Need to watch my caffeine intake." She replied.

He reached in the cupboard, remarking he had never heard of that particular dietary restriction during a pregnancy.

"Oh yes, that and more. Everything changes, even the relationships you have with your current children." She said, passive aggression in her voice.

He came over with two mugs, handing one to her as he perched at the end of the sofa. She thanked him, though as he sat, she saw his eyes run over her. Subtle sure, but at her age she'd seen it all before.

As maternity wear went it was quite elegant. A figure-hugging light blue dress that gently clung to her soft and rounded figure. Her hair was down, playfully bouncing on her shoulders and falling short of her noticeably enlarged chest. He had seen her intermittently throughout her term, very much noticing the change her body went through every time.

She smiled at him, and took a sip from her tea, eyes fixed on him, framed by the rim of the mug and her own pointed brows. She had noticed him change too. Clearly, he had taken it upon himself to get in shape in the last half year. The softness that she once saw in his face had changed to something more angular and refined, and even the only modest increase in muscle mass on his frame pushed up against clothes that were now visibly a bit too tight for him. He didn't notice her looking, but he was young. Still had the years needed to learn to spot that kind of thing ahead of him.

"Oh. Have things changed then, between the two of you?" He asked, curious.

"I really shouldn't say anything, but it's all taken some getting used to for him. You know that's why he isn't here, right? Things haven't been the same since I remarried, but this I think was a bit much for him. He's very sensitive you know." She said, only half aware of her over sharing.

She paused a minute, and the two both laughed.

"Oh gosh, don't tell him I said that, he'd be mortified." She continued through giggling.

"I won't." He replied.

The two sat silent for a moment, and she contemplated her son. Sensitive didn't describe the half of it. Spoiled, selfish, spiteful; those were far better descriptors. Cowardly too. He was in his early twenties; he should be able to face his own mother. She looked back at the young man sat at the edge of the sofa, and in her mind a handful of enticing connections were being made. Connections between him and her.

"You know, I don't bite, you don't have to perch on the edge like a parrot." She said, patting the seat of the sofa next to her.

He slid off the sofa edge and next to her. Still a respectable distance apart, but still closer than the two had ever been since knowing one another.

"So how long are you in the city for? Is your new husband with you?" He asked.

"Here for a few days actually, though he's not with me today. He'll be coming up later tonight." She said, noticing his intentions from a mile away.

She wondered if all young men were this easy to read, or just this one. She found it flattering, nonetheless. The third trimester look was not to every man's taste, which was much to her disappointment as her own libido was definitely something that had been positively changed by the pregnancy. She didn't quite know what it was, but there was a constant need for her body to be touched. For her heavy aching breasts to be soothed and massaged by warm hands. To feel a body pressed against her own soft self. To have her round behind gripped as someone filled the space between her legs. It all felt very primal and somewhat difficult to explain if she ever plucked up the courage to tell anyone, but she had an almost uncontrollable urge to be fucked rotten.

She looked at him again and figured he would do nicely in meeting that particular need. She put her mug down.

"Excuse me, I must pop to the loo." She said, righting herself and strolling off down the hall, placing a hand on his shoulder as she passed him.

He watched her leave, his eyes transfixed on the movements her body made and how she would rest her hands atop her belly as she walked. He patiently awaited her return, his fingers rattling on the mug as he drank his coffee. After a while he heard the familiar sound of the bathroom door opening, though from the sequence of floor creaks he noticed she decided against walking back down the hall, and instead went toward the bedrooms. He wondered for a minute if she thought he had been lying about her son and really he was hiding in a bedroom. Getting up to investigate, he saw she had instead gone and entered his own room.

He briskly moved down the hallway and entered through the now open doorway. She was in there, sat on the bed, inspecting the surrounding bottles of energy drinks and health supplements.

"I see you've been getting in shape." She said, rattling a small bottle of multivitamins in her hand.

"New year's resolution. I'm still wondering if it's noticeable." He replied, attempting to remain nonchalant in the face of a woman sat at the edge of his bed.

"Trust me I'm sure people have noticed a difference. I have." She said.

She stood up, putting the bottle on the drawers beside her and with her other hand squeezed his upper arm. It felt firm and girthy as she gripped it. She moved closer to him and inhaled deeply, so her rising chest would press into his. The contact of it made her deeply exhale in a relaxed, aroused delight as she moved her face closer to kiss him.

There was a moment before embracing him where she thought this sort of thing was thoroughly out of order, but then again so was being stood up like she was. This felt a fitting way to even everything out, and allowed her to vent a little too. Besides, this one had such youth. Such virility.

He also had a moment of hesitation, but that came and went sooner than hers. He could hardly believe his luck at first, and upon realisation that this actually was happening, wrapped his arms around her back, leaning his body into hers. She felt the intensity of his body pushing up against her, appreciating such a physical display of his lust. She enjoyed the continuing flattery and followed the momentum of his movements which led her back down onto the bed. Her lying, and him atop her, his mouth moved from her lips and to her ears and neck. He paid a great amount of detail to her, his hands and mouth running across her face, neck and shoulders. The intensity remained, and she felt it when his strong hands rested atop hers and she felt them pressing into her with a firmness she hadn't felt since her own early twenties.

He moved himself down from her face, running hands down her enlarged, aching breasts. He squeezed them, softly, from over her dress and she moaned through exhaled breath in response. He continued downward to her legs, which were still in a seated position at the edge of the bed. He wasted no time in running a hand under her dress and drawing her underwear down to the floor. His other hand moved between her thighs. She had more hair than he expected, but that only served to arouse him further as he caressed between her legs. Though he had only been with a limited number of women in the past, he could tell there was something quite pleasingly different about her. She felt warmer, more engorged and plumper than others as his fingers circled from her wet labia up to her clitoris. She reached her arm down to him as he toyed with her. She grasped the top of his head, directing it closer in-between her legs. As he was drawn under her dress, he found the smell of her intoxicating, and he pressed his mouth over her. He happily drank her up and felt her body squirm and vocalise in pleasure around him as his mouth enveloped her and his tongue explored her warm and wet self that sat nestled between her legs.

She tightened the grip on his hair as he caressed, kissed, and altogether lapped her up. She shamelessly cried out in pleasure at the sensation of it all, her body responding to the great attention to detail being paid between her legs. Every circle he ran around her clitoris elevated the enchanting sensations she felt, rhythmically lifting the ceiling of her pleasure. The gentle warmth of it all radiated from between her legs out across her body, enveloping her. She could feel herself coming up to her first orgasm already as her throbbing clitoris was pampered by his tongue. Every heartbeat echoed with pleasure as a cascade of warmth erupted between her legs and she came. Her arms stretched out across the bed, gripping whatever bedding she came across. Her knees felt weak, and she extended her legs out, stretching and wrapping them around his back as he continued servicing her.

She could have continued laying there, while the young man unendingly provided such attention to her, but she thought that would be wasted potential. He was in good shape, and she wanted to see that almost as much as she thought he would want to show it off.

She sat herself up, him still between her, his arms wrapped around her thighs and still attempting to continue plunging his tongue inside her as her body shifted away. She stood up and motioned for him to as well.

He was still clothed, and so she brought her hand down to his groin, massaging the bulge over the tight fabric of his trousers. With a single hand she unclasped the buttons and fly and plunged in, long nailed and manicured fingers wrapping around his girthy shaft as she brought it out. With her other hand she guided his chin, redirecting his gaze so they held eye contact as she began stroking and pumping his cock. She enjoyed watching his face react to her toying with him, but the primal desire to be utterly destroyed remained at the front of her mind.

She turned, and put her knees onto the bed while maintaining upright. Still firmly gripping his penis, she drew him closer to her and guided him between the now fully soaked region between her legs. He felt this gentle tug drawing him closer to her back. Her dress laced up at the back, and so he took the liberty of undoing the top knot, letting the top half of the dress fall off her shoulders. Her upper body exposed, he again took the liberty of unclasping her bra, freeing her heavy breasts for him to cup and massage more fully. His palms ran to the underside of her breasts while he kept the thumb above her nipples, occasionally bringing it and his index finger together, squeezing them gently and drawing out from her a few droplets of warm milk that ran down his hands, her lust for him only rising as he did so. He drew ever closer, and placing a hand between her thighs, angled his penis so it slid effortlessly inside her.

The feeling of comforting warmth enveloped his penis as he entered and bottomed out deep inside her. She let out a cathartic moan as it went in, as if the erotic needs that had been building in her were finally reaching a form of real release. Between breaths she let out a command for him to just 'ruin' her, and he wasted no time in putting his body to work.

He started slow, though going deep and with the kind of power and passion that she had been craving. He savoured every slow deep stroke he took inside her, his pace teasing her as she moaned for it harder, faster. She reached an arm around her back, grasping at his tight muscular buttocks. She spanked him, painless yet firm, and gripped his right cheek in an effort to get him to move faster. A riding crop would have done well to motivate him, she thought, but in all honesty she hadn't started the day with the intention to fuck, and so did not think far enough ahead to bring one.

He moved his hands around her midriff, wishing to continue the exploration of her body both inside and out. He took a hand to her breasts again, delighting in feeling their added weight as he cupped them. He continued to massage and squeeze them, enticing more milk to drip from her large dark erect nipples. He treaded the line with a firmness that landed between pain and pleasure for her sensitive breasts. She relished in the many directions her pleasure emanated from across her body, crying out in ecstasy as her body became suspended in the feeling of it all.

His other hand traced upwards from her hip and across her swollen belly underneath her dress. Her skin was soft and smooth, feeling slightly warm, though with somewhat tighter skin than he expected a woman of this roundness to be. It wasn't fat, just expanded. Swollen. She brought a hand down to meet his, and redirected it to her clitoris. She appreciated the attention, but now she wanted something more raw.

A firm hold on her, he kicked his pace up a gear. The power of his thrusting deep in her remained, but the frequency went up and up in a way they both found overwhelmingly pleasing. She loved the way his strong thighs connected with hers, the kinetic energy of it travelling up her body and rocking it slightly. If he wasn't essentially holding her up, it would be enough to knock her down to her hands and knees. He continued to pay attention to her clitoris as he pounded away at her, his fingers gently sliding over her wet organ in circular patterns. The contrast in sensations, internal and external, gentle and rough, brought her closer to the edge of her second orgasm. She was bellowing out in pleasure at the top of her voice as the young man behind her continued giving her what she so desperately wanted. He showed no signs of fatigue, and she found herself smiling at that realisation. This was a far cry from the enthusiasm absent duty sex her new husband had been bringing to the table.

As the warm build-up of orgasm became more apparent in her, she went onto her hands, presenting her behind to him. Moving the dress out the way, he looked down at her large and round bottom, thoroughly enjoying the way it rippled with each thrust he made into her. Her now fully in the animalistic position she so desired, he grabbed the lower part of her waist and increased his pace yet again. Where once she was only slightly rocked by the momentum of his thrusting, here she was being fully manhandled as he held onto her hips, sliding her back and forth in tandem with him entering her. The power of his strokes increased too, and he found himself almost grunting as he continued moving so roughly inside her. She felt this increase in intensity too, and her body vigorously moved in response to his rhythm. Her breasts, with nipples large and erect, happily received this additional momentum as they swung underneath her. She delighted in the way they moved under her, swinging and slapping into one another. They were so full and sensitive, and she saw that more little droplets of milk pooled around them before falling onto the bed below.

As she drew closer to orgasm, he could feel the inside of her change. She became even wetter, while at the same time the walls of her vagina began to tighten, almost wishing to squeeze and push him out of her. In response he went deeper and harder, and the pitch of her moaning rose with the intensity of the sensations she was feeling. With her squeezing and gripping his penis like she was, he was fast approaching his own climax. He cried out and filled her insides with his semen, slamming into her in time with each of his contractions. She could tell it had been a while for him, as she could feel the eruption inside herself quite well. It was that, his moans that turned to more guttural vocalisations, and the rough aggression of which his orgasmic movements brought on that finally flung her over the edge and she came in tandem. She screamed as her head pressed down into the dishevelled bedding, her breasts following as she entered a final, arched back position. She felt the sensation of her orgasm radiate across her body. Her breathing was heavy and her heart was racing. She felt the throbbing warmth between her legs, knowing full well it was a precursor to that pleasantly sore feeling to come later that she so enjoyed. Though he wouldn't see it, her face was gleefully smiling as it was pressed into the bed.

As he exited her, he took a moment to watch what he had left inside her slide out and down her vulva. It was a favourite part of the act for him, watching the result of it all drip out of a woman.

Looking down again, he realised he had barely removed any of his clothes. She too had her dress still on, though roughed up and moved out of the way so as to expose her breasts and bottom. He mutedly zipped himself up and walked off to the bathroom. He thought it somewhat rude to leave her there, but in truth that was just the thing she was looking for in an encounter such as this. She felt so pleasantly used, though in truth he was the object, the means to her delightful end.